What do I Have to Do?
by Spring Witch
Summary: Harry and Draco are together, but Harry gets tired of waiting for Draco to come clean to his father about their relationship, and he leaves. Can Draco win him back, especially now that so much has changed? M/M, Mpreg. Rated M for sexual scenes.
1. Prologue

Hello and welcome to my first _real_ attempt at something smutty! I hope it lives up to everyone's standards, and that everyone enjoys this fic! I'm basing this fic off of Martina McBride's song of the same name, so I'm hoping that I can write a story that does the song justice. I'm not sure how long this will be yet, as it randomly popped into my head a couple of days ago and wouldn't leave me alone!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. The song for which this story is named is written and performed by Martina McBride.**

Enjoy!

* * *

**What do I Have to Do?**

**Prologue**

Harry Potter woke, the morning after graduation, in an unfamiliar bed. He groaned and sat up, fumbling for his glasses before looking around. Belatedly, Harry realized that he was in the Room of Requirement, although he wasn't exactly sure how he had come to be there. Stretching, he winced as he felt a twinge in his lower back, _that_ couldn't be a good thing. Then he became aware of the body beside him in the bed. Harry froze as the boy beside him yawned and sat up. _God, please don't let that be who I think it is!"_ he begged silently.

But it was. Draco Malfoy's grey eyes looked into his green ones. "Hey." The Slytherin said softly. "Hey." Harry replied slowly, as the night before suddenly flashed before his eyes with startling clarity.

_Blond hair falling into grey eyes, clothes rustling as they fell to the floor, Draco's naked body covering his, his own voice crying out as Draco moved within him, their sweat-soaked bodies moving in perfect harmony as they reached their climax together._

There had been a 'Welcome Back' party for the seventh year students, and Seamus had somehow supplied the group of seventeen year olds with copious amounts of Firewhiskey and Butterbeer. Harry hadn't drunk much, but he wasn't so sure about Draco. It broke his heart to think that the one boy he loved more than anyone had used him for a one night stand.

Looking abruptly away from Draco, Harry scrambled out of the bed in search of his clothing. He was dressed from the waist down when Draco grabbed his arm. "Don't go." The blond pleaded.

Harry stared down at him. "How much do you remember Malfoy?" he asked finally.

"Not much." Draco admitted, and it hurt more than Harry cared to admit.

"Well _I_ remember everything." He said, grabbing his shirt.

"I remember how good you felt against me," Draco told him suddenly. Harry stopped to stare at him. "And I remember how amazing it was to be inside you, to feel you moving beneath me and writhing in pleasure." He continues as Harry shivered at the memory. "And I also remember how many drinks I needed just so I could find the courage to approach you. Believe me, it was a _lot_." He finished.

"What's your point Malfoy?" Harry said impatiently, trying to act as though Draco's words had had no effect on him, when, in fact, they had.

"My point, Harry, is that I wanted this, wanted _you_, long before last night. Draco told him. "I love you, Harry."

In the blink of an eye, Harry had dropped his shirt and thrown himself into Draco's embrace. The still naked Slytherin wasted no time in removing Harry's clothes, and both cried out in ecstasy as Draco slowly entered Harry again, both of them sharing in this one moment of sheer abandon.

*** * * ***

"Harry?" Draco asked later, as they lay tired and content in each other's arms.

"Mmmhmm?" Harry mumbled happily.

"We can't tell anyone about this yet. I don't want news about us travelling back to my father before I've had a chance to tell him myself."

Harry sighed. He might've known this would happen. "You're not ashamed of me, are you Draco?" he asked mournfully.

"What? No, of _course_ not Harry! I love you!" Draco exclaimed. "My only intent is to ensure that no one feeds my father some half truth or a downright lie. I'd simply rather that he heard it from me rather than, say, Pansy Parkinson."

Harry sighed again. "All right Draco, but don't wait forever." He said at last. "Tell him soon, okay?"

Draco nodded. "I will. I promise."

That was eight months ago, and Harry was still waiting for Draco to keep his promise.

* * *

"Harry _please_!" Draco begged. "Don't go, please! Harry please don't leave me... I love you!"

"I have to go Draco. I can't do this anymore! I won't be your dirty little secret any longer. I just can't handle it." Harry said firmly, even though it was killing him to say it. They were in their special room in the Room of Requirement.

"But I love you!" Draco cried.

"I know, and I love you too, but I'm tired of waiting Dray; tired of waiting for you to find the courage to tell your father about us. I'm sick of always having to lie to my friends about where I am and who I'm with just so I can spend a few minutes alone with you, hiding in some alcove or a dusty classroom. I don't want that." Harry told him.

"I'll tell him!" Draco whispered. "I'll tell him, tomorrow at graduation, and then we can be together!"

Harry looked into Draco's tear filled grey eyes, and saw fear there. But it wasn't the fear of losing Harry; it was the fear of telling his father what he was, the fear that would prevent Draco from telling his father the truth yet again. "No, you won't."

Draco wanted so desperately to tell him that he was wrong, but he knew in his heart that Harry was right; that he was to afraid to face his father. He let out a pained sob and asked "So what do we do now?"

Harry tried to smile, but couldn't through his tears. "We go to graduation, smile and act like nothing's changed, just like we always do. Then, the next day, we get off the train, and go our separate ways, as though this relationship had never happened." He told Draco quietly.

"I'm not sure I can do that." Draco sniffed.

Harry smiled crookedly. "Neither am I." he whispered.

Draco leant down and claimed Harry's lips in a possessive kiss. "If that's the way you want it Harry, will you let me make love to you one last time?" he asked.

Harry looked up into his eyes. "It will only make this harder Draco." he warned.

"I don't care." Draco said fiercely.

"Very well then." Harry whispered. "One last time."

Draco kissed Harry again, before pulling the smaller boy's shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor as Harry copied his movement. Draco kissed and licked his way down Harry's neck as he undid the button on the Gryffindor's uniform pants.

Harry's breath came out in pants as Draco lowered him onto the bed, continuing to trace a path down the brunette's body, carefully skirting around the tent in his boxers.

"Draco… please…" Harry whimpered, bucking his hips towards the blond impatiently.

Draco smiled, trying to cease the incessant thought running through his mind, _one last time, one last time_. "Patience, my love." he murmured. "We have tonight, at least."

Finally, Draco removed both Harry's boxers, and then his own. Harry cried out wildly when Draco's mouth engulfed his erection, sucking lightly on the tip before swallowing it entirely. Simultaneously, Draco used his wand to cast a lubrication spell on his hand, gently slipping two fingers into Harry's entrance. Harry arched up off the bed as his lover's fingers brushed over his prostate. "_Draco!_" he breathed. "Hurry, or I'll come!"

Draco pulled his mouth away from Harry's erection and moved up to kiss his lips again, their tongues entwining with practiced ease and, not for the first time, Draco marvelled at how well they fit together. He added a third finger to Harry's entrance.

"Dracooooo…" Harry whined.

Draco chuckled despite himself. "Very well Harry my love." he whispered, withdrawing his fingers and casting another lubrication spell, this time on his own erection. Slowly and carefully, Draco pushed past the tight ring of muscle at Harry's entrance, before sliding into his smaller lover completely. "Harry, I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." Harry whispered back.

"But you still won't stay, will you?" Draco asked.

"No." Harry replied.

Slowly, and with tears streaming down his face, Draco began to move within Harry, who was also crying. They stayed like that for sometime, Draco thrusting into Harry at a sedate pace. As the pleasure began to build within them both, Harry cried out, "Draco, harder, faster… please!"

Draco complied as he felt his orgasm begin to build, picking up his pace until he was slamming into Harry's prostate on every thrust. Harry screamed as his pleasure built. "Draco, I'm close!"

Draco grunted in reply, and reached a hand down to grasp Harry's erection. He could feel his own end coming closer as he tugged roughly on Harry's cock. "Come, Harry." He whispered in his love's ear. "Come for me!"

Harry wailed as the pleasure overtook him, and he came into Draco's hand. Seconds later, Draco moaned and dropped his head to Harry's neck as he came deeply inside his lover.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours before Draco pulled carefully out of Harry and whispered a cleaning charm. Looking up at Draco, Harry saw dried tear tracks on the blond's cheeks, just as surely as they were on his. Tenderly he caressed Draco's face, before kissing him.

Draco reached out and twined his fingers around Harry's. "I'll never let you go Harry. I love you too much to lose you now."

Harry sighed, and leant instinctively into Draco's touch. "Then I'll just have to make it easier for you." He murmured. Draco was too tired to wonder what that meant.

*** * * ***

Two days later, they stepped off the Hogwarts Express and went their separate ways, so convincingly that no one ever knew how their hearts cried out for each other.

The day after that, Harry packed his things and left the Dursley's house, leaving nothing behind and vanishing without a trace. He would not be seen again by the Wizarding public for the next three years.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was worried about her son. In the three weeks since he had come home from Hogwarts, Draco had done nothing but mope around the manor, and it had only gotten worse once the _Daily Prophet_ had broken the news about Harry Potter's retreat from the Wizarding World. Now, Narcissa Malfoy was a smart woman. She might not know what was bothering her son, but he could hazard a fairly good guess. She knew her son better than anyone, and would bet the entire Malfoy fortune that Draco's melancholy attitude had everything to do with Harry Potter.

So, one evening while Lucius was working in his study, Narcissa went in search of her son. She found him in the gardens, sitting despondently on a bench surrounded by roses. "Draco dear?" she called to him,

He wiped his eyes hurriedly on his sleeve before turning to face her. "Yes, mother?" he called back as she approached him. The closer she got, the easier it was to see that he had been crying.

"What's been bothering you dear? I don't think I've ever seen you so sad." She said concernedly, smoothing her son's hair back from his face as she talked.

"It's nothing mother." He said with false cheerfulness.

They were silent for a moment before Narcissa asked tentatively, "Does it have anything to do with Harry Potter by any chance?"

Draco stiffened at the mention of his former lover's name. "Why would you think that mother?" he asked indifferently.

"Draco darling, you were miserable when you got home from school, but when the _Prophet_ printed that story about Potter, you became downright hopeless." She told him gently. There was a long pause before she asked "Do you want to talk about it?"

It was as if a floodgate had opened. Draco threw himself into his mother's arms, crying into her expensive robes. "I loved him, mother! I loved him and he left me!"

"Oh, my poor darling!" Narcissa crooned gently into his ear as she rocked him back and forth. She couldn't say she was terribly surprised. She had deduced for a while that her son preferred men over women. "Tell me all about it."

"We started to go out in secret just after school went back." Draco explained. "He finally had enough of keeping everyone in the dark, and he left me."

"Secret? Why in secret?" Narcissa enquired.

"I didn't want father finding out." Draco mumbled. "I wanted to tell him myself before someone else did, like Pansy or Blaise. I just couldn't find the courage to tell him, I was too afraid of what he'd say. Of what_ you_ would say."

Narcissa sighed. Lucius really did have a lot to answer for. Sometimes his cold, disapproving façade meant that his love and affection for his son got lost. "Darling, I've suspected for sometime that you might prefer men." She told him. He looked up at her. "You're not mad or disappointed?" he asked.

"Darling _no_! I could never be disappointed in you." She chided him. "Now, stop all this crying, you must look your best if you're to win Harry back!"

"But what about father?" Draco cried.

Narcissa smiled grimly. "You leave your father to me." she said, and Draco winced at the hint of steel in his mother's musical voice. She grinned at him. "Just you focus on how you're going to win Harry over!"

"But I don't even know where he might be!" Draco said dejectedly.

Narcissa thought for a moment. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I have an idea!"

"What is it mother?" Draco asked.

"When my cousin Sirius was killed a few years back, it was rumoured that he left the Black family's ancestral home to Harry, his godson." She explained.

"Where is this place?" Draco urged her.

"Number 12, Grimmauld place." Narcissa informed him. She shuddered delicately. "Although, if he_ is_ there, I feel sorry for him. Aunt Walburga's taste in home décor left much to be desired."

Draco laughed, feeling more hopeful that he had in weeks as he kissed his mother's cheek. "Thank you mother!" he said, and he ran towards the manor.

"You're welcome dear." She replied fondly to the empty space beside her.

Her expression turned determined as she walked off to enlighten her husband. If he couldn't accept their son for who he was, Lucius Malfoy would be sleeping in the guest room for a _long_ time to come!

* * *

Okay, so that is the prologue. How did I do? I wasn't originally planning for this story to have a sex scene this early, but it became kind of necessary, since this is going to be an mpreg. I'm not entirely sure yet what will happen in the next chapter, but I think it will start with Draco finding Harry at Grimmauld place, and go from there. The next chapter may jump around a bit time wise, so please bear with me!

Until next time!!


	2. Alone

Holy crap! I was totally not expecting this to be so popular when I posted the prologue. I expected this to be a quirky little thing that was more or less for my own entertainment rather than any particular fan base. Boy, was I wrong! The prologue received 32 reviews in total, and about half of them in the two days following my post! I was stunned, because I really hadn't though much further ahead than that, and was COMPLETELY unprepared for the response I received. Still, I apologise for the fact that it has taken me over a year to write this, I didn't realise it had been so long!

I noticed that there were a few mistakes in the prologue too, so let's just say that Harry and Draco hooked up at a welcome back party for the Seventh Years and were together the rest of the year. I think I screwed up the timeline a bit in the first paragraph or so, but it should be fine from now on!

Thanks all of you for being so patient… Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. They belong to J.K Rowling, sadly enough.**

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* * *

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**What Do I Have to Do?**

**Chapter 1**

**Alone**

**Draco's POV**

I Apparated almost immediately to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, hoping desperately that I would find Harry there. As I approached the house, I thought about what I would say to my lover; that I had come out to my mother and that my father would fall in line or risk Narcissa Malfoy's wrath. I pictured Harry running into my arms, so I could sweep the younger man off his feet and then, hopefully, find a bedroom where I could make love to Harry, whereby making up for all the lost opportunities over the last few weeks since school finished.

My daydreaming came to a grinding halt when I suddenly hit the house's wards. They were powerful enough to force me backwards a few steps. I could clearly see the house, so there was no longer a Fidelius charm on it, but these wards were certainly nothing to sneeze at. Slowly, I began to subtly and systematically dismantle the wards. If Harry _was_ in there, there was no sense scaring him off before he realised who it was. I noted that underneath the newer wards, there were some that might have been there for centuries. These wards were easily satisfied, with a drop of my blood so that the magic recognised me as a member of the Black family. The other wards, I realised, were more than likely put there by Harry. I would recognise his spell casting anywhere.

I was only half way through dismantling the wards when front door opened. I froze, holding my breath. There, standing right in front of me, was Harry Potter, the love of my life. He was as frozen as I was for just an instant, then he whirled around, a stricken look on his face. Forgetting subtlety, and desperate to reach Harry, I blasted through the remainder of the wards and raced up the path in search of him, calling his name as I ran.

I entered the living room just as the flames in the fireplace flared green, and Harry disappeared into their depths. Hurriedly, I cast a spell that would give me the Floo's last destination, and stepped in after Harry.

I landed in an unfamiliar living room, but was confronted by a pair of uncomfortably familiar faces, with familiar wands trained on me. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had apparently moved in together straight out of school. "Why are _you_ coming through our fireplace, Malfoy?" Weasley demanded. Granger just stared at me contemplatively, as if she was considering a rather difficult new research assignment. Thankfully, she lowered her wand as she studied me. I was too frantic about Harry to stand on ceremony any longer. "Where's Harry?" I asked. "I followed him here, so where is he?"

Weasley's indignant "You _followed_ him here?" was drowned out by Granger's declaration of "I knew it!"

I sighed. "You knew _what_ exactly, Granger?" I asked impatiently.

"I _knew_ Harry was seeing someone last year, and I had a feeling it was you." She said, as Weasley squawked angrily at the idea. "Why else would he not tell his two best friends?" She finished triumphantly. "Besides, Harry tore through here like a bat out of Hell earlier, so you showing up after him just confirmed my suspicions."

"So he's here?" I asked hopefully.

"He Apparated out straight away, Malfoy." Weasley said, so smugly that I wanted to hit him.

"Where did he go then?" I demanded.

"He didn't say. I'm sorry Draco." Granger replied, and I sank on to a nearby sofa, despair overtaking me again. Granger sat beside me. "Did you have a fight?" she asked gently. "Did you break up?"

Unbidden, the whole sorry affair bubbled up inside me, and I found myself blurting out the entire story to her, including the events that led to me crying, which is rather undignified I might add, in her living room. She stayed beside me, listening intently. When I was finished, Weasely looked like he was going to be violently ill, but Granger looked sympathetic, for which I was grateful. Hatred or pity in her eyes would have killed me at that point. She was, after all, Harry's best friend and I had just told her everything we had kept from her for the last twelve months.

"I'm not sure if I can be of any help to you Draco." She said finally. "Harry is, above all else, our best friend, and while I agree that Harry should listen to what you have to say, he'll want to protect his heart."

"I understand." I said numbly.

"I'll try to help if I can." Granger continued. "But the best advice I can give you right now is to not give up."

I smiled at her weakly. "Thanks Granger."

She returned my pathetic attempt at a smile with a warm one of her own. "You're welcome." She replied. "And it's Hermione."

"I'm sorry for intruding on you Hermione. I'll be going now." I told her. As I stepped into the Floo, I heard Weasley ask the question I'd been wondering about myself. "Why are you helping him again?"

"_We_ are helping him, Ronald, because he is Harry's chance at happiness."

I smiled as I Flooed directly to the manor. I felt encouraged by her words… I would _not _give up.

* * *

That night, I sat in the window seat in my room, reading. Or rather, _trying_ to read. In reality, the only thing on my mind was Harry. Earlier, I had told my mother what had transpired at Grimmauld Place, and at Weasley and Granger's. So the last thing I had expected was my father knocking on my door and entering my room. I watched him wearily as he sat himself on the window seat beside me. "Your mother has informed me of the situation." Lucius said carefully.

"I see." I replied, equally as careful.

"I am disappointed that you felt you couldn't tell me yourself." Father continued. I winced internally, waiting for the inevitable reprimand.

Instead, my father sighed. "I know I haven't always been the best father." He said. "I've tried to teach you the Malfoy family values, often at the expense of good parenting, and for that, I am sorry."

I stared at him in surprise. Such an admission from Lucius Malfoy was rare. "I think, perhaps, had I tried to communicate with you more, you would have been less afraid to tell me the truth." He sighed again. "It's my fault, not yours Draco."

"So you're not mad at me?" I asked tentatively.

"No Draco, I'm not mad at you." Father replied. "Unlike your mother, I had no idea you were that way inclined, but I'm not mad."

"That was the main reason I was so afraid to tell you." I admitted.

"I'll admit that I'm not in love with the idea," Lucius said. "But I certainly don't love you any less for it."

It was then that I succumbed to an obscure desire to hug my father. I think it shocked him as much as it shocked me. I was even more surprised when he returned the hug. Lucius Malfoy was not known for being touchy-feely.

"So what are you going to do about Mr. Potter?" he asked, and I suddenly realised that mother had sent him up here. It was in the way he cringed slightly when he mentioned Harry's name. His whole speech suddenly made sense. Normally, I would have received only his silent approval and been satisfied with that, and father would have avoided mentioning Harry at all. There was still no love lost between father and Harry, that's for sure.

"What did it take to get you up here?" I asked, grinning. "What did she threaten you with?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Father replied loftily. "Can't I simply be concerned for my son?"

"Of course you can." I answered cheekily. "You're just usually less… _vocal_, about your concern. Spill it, dad." I knew I'd get away with calling him dad… just this once.

Lucius returned my grin. "The pain of death." He replied wryly. "And the pain of exile from my own bedroom."

I pulled a face. There are some things one doesn't need to know about one's parents.

"Seriously though, Draco," father said. "What are you going to do about Harry?"

I sighed. "I'm going to keep looking father. What else can I do? I love him too much to just let him walk away, especially now that there's nothing to keep us apart." _Especially my own cowardice._ I added silently

He patted my shoulder. "Good lad. A Malfoy never gives up, and a Malfoy always gets what he wants."

I smiled. "Yes father." I replied.

"Get some sleep son. By the sound of things, you've had a trying day." He told me.

"I will father." I answered.

Father got up to leave, but at the door he turned back to me and said. "I meant everything I said, Draco. If not for your mother, I might not have said it, but I still meant it."

I smiled again. "I know, father. Thank you."

He nodded, and left me alone again.

* * *

I lay awake for what felt like hours after my father left. All I could think about was Harry, and how I had let him slip away again. As I tossed and turned, I began to remember Harry as I had first known him. As I remembered, I wondered where he was and what he was doing.

_**I hear the ticking of the clock**_

_**I'm lying here, the room's pitch dark**_

_**I wonder where you are tonight**_

_**No answer on the telephone **_

First Year, wanting nothing more that to be his friend, and being rejected. He'd looked at me, and at my offered hand, like I had the plague. Later, Harry had explained that I had been an uncomfortable reminder of his cousin Dudley, who by all accounts is a most unpleasant person. From that moment I hated him like I had never hated anyone, or anything before, but I also wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything before. It burned me that he had refused my offer of friendship so readily, especially in favour of that red-headed tribe of idiots. So I focused on hating him, and for a while, it worked.

_**And the night goes by so very slow**_

_**Oh, I hope that it won't end, oh**_

_**Alone**_

Second Year.

I still hated him. He still hated me. I _knew_ that there was no way that he was the Heir of Slytherin; he was too good, too kind, but I pushed it because I wanted him discredited and humiliated, to feel how I usually felt within the walls of Hogwarts; feared and detested. Most of the time it didn't bother me, but for Potter to feel even a little bit of what I did was always at the forefront of my mind.

_**Til now, I always got by own**_

_**I never really cared until I met you**_

_**And now it chills me to the bone**_

_**How do I get you alone?**_

_**How do I get you alone?**_

Third Year.

Finding out that brave, _famous_ Harry Potter fainted from exposure to Dementors was bully gold. I took advantage of this knowledge shamelessly, dressing up like Dementors at the Quidditch match. This of course backfired on me when he blasted me with a Patronus Charm. Yet somehow I still admired how he took in stride the knowledge that Sirius Black was trying to kill him. He never seemed to let it bother him, even when he found out that he had killed his parents. I didn't find out until we were together that Sirius Black, my mother's cousin, was in actual fact his godfather. Looking back on all the things I discovered, I felt like a right prat for all the crap I pulled that year.

_**You don't know how long I have wanted**_

_**To touch your lips and hold you tight**_

_**Yeah…**_

_**You don't know how long I have waited**_

_**And I was gonna tell you tonight.**_

Fourth Year.

Really, telling Harry I was scared that Pansy or Blaise would spread news of our relationship to my father was a load of bull. A total cop-out. Pansy and Blaise were two of my best friends, aside from Greg and Vince. True, Pansy had a big mouth, and was possibly the second worst gossip in Hogwarts, behind Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil, but not even Pansy would intentionally tell my father something private, but with her mouth, anyone could hear, and get back it would have.

But I digress. By the time I was fourteen, my feelings for Harry had changed, at least in my friends eyes. I was completely happy to continue living in my little bubble of oblivious 'hatred', but Pansy and Blaise it seemed have other ideas. "You know Draco; I'm starting to think that you _like_ Potter." Pansy said to me one day at dinner, and I nearly choked on my pumpkin juice.

"Are you insane?" I demanded.

"Actually, Pans has got a point." Blaise added thoughtfully. "You really are overcompensating a bit here Draco, I think she might be right."

"You're both full of shit." I retorted, focusing steadfastly on my dinner and trying to ignore both them and the sinking feeling in my stomach as I tried to deny how terrified I was that Harry had been entered in the Triwizard Tournament.

It wasn't until the end of the year that I realised that they were right. When Cedric Diggory died in the tournament, and Dumbledore stood to propose a toast, I found myself unable to stand. My legs would not support me as I realised that _Harry_ had almost died in that maze too, and I was thankful to all the Slytherins who had misguidedly followed my lead and refused to stand. And then I had another terrifying thought; Pansy and Blaise were wrong after all… I didn't _like_ Harry Potter.

I loved him.

_**But the secret is still my own**_

_**Oh, and my love for you is still unknown**_

_**Alone.**_

Fifth Year.

I kept my feelings hidden rather well. Too well in fact, because there was absolutely no doubt that Harry despised me that year, more so than ever before. Joining the Inquisitorial Squad didn't do anything for my popularity or my reputation, and I hated myself for turning him into Umbridge for trying to use the Floo in the Headmaster's office. Especially since she seemed to think Unforgivables were a good idea. Dumb bitch. I had to give Granger credit though, feeding the awful woman to the centaurs was a bloody brilliant idea.

Later, I felt bad for my Father's involvement in the death of Sirius Black, even more so for the involvement of my psycho Aunt Bellatrix. I know Father still feels guilty over the Ministry incident. Sirius and my Mother had been close as children, and it had upset her to learn that he had been killed during that confrontation.

I could tell that he wasn't coping well after the night at the Ministry. He seemed perpetually angry and sad, and all I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and hug him, in front of everyone regardless of what they might think.

_**Til now, I always got by own**_

_**I never really cared until I met you**_

_**And now it chills me to the bone**_

_**How do I get you alone?**_

_**How do I get you alone?**_

Sixth Year.

When the Dark Lord gave me the mission to kill Professor Dumbledore, I was horrified. I knew how much the man meant to Harry, and I also knew that I could never kill anyone. Nevertheless, I had to make a concerted effort, he had threatened my mother after all; what else could I do?

That fight in the bathroom was awful for me on so many levels. I wanted to be able to tell him everything; in fact I was so close to blurting the truth to him. The spell hurt far less than the look of hatred on Harry's face as he cast it. The look of horror and guilt on his face when he realised what he had done is a sight that has stuck in my mind ever since. Later I found out just how guilty Harry felt about that spell. I still feel like I deserved it more than a little.

I guess it was lucky that Dumbledore was killed in battle before I had a chance to follow through. I was relieved that the man was killed in what turned out to be the final battle against the Dark Lord; simply because it meant that I didn't have to do it myself. It turned out that Aunt Bellatrix did it for me.

Harry could barely look at me after the battle. He looked pale and drawn after he finally succeeded in defeating Voldemort, but also as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I could tell it had taken a lot out of him.

Seventh Year.

Harry looked better when school resumed. He looked healthier after a few good meals, no doubt under the care of Mrs. Weasley. Everyone had been invited to Finnigan's party that evening, even the Slytherins. The other houses had begun to make a concerted effort to reach out to the Slytherins after so many of us decided to stay and help to defend Hogwarts the year before, most of us going against our families to do so.

Turns out that party was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Of course, I barely remember most of it. The next thing I knew I was waking up next to Harry. It was like a dream come true for me, and apparently for him as well. My memory from the night before might have been a bit fuzzy, but my feelings for him for anything but. And there began the best year of my life, a year spent with Harry. That is, until three weeks ago.

That brings us to the events of today.

I sighed. Harry was the most amazing person in my life. I couldn't bear to be without him much longer. If only I knew where he had gone! I needed to tell him about my conversation with Father, that he would be accepted and loved by my family regardless of who he was.

If only I knew where he had gone.

_**Oh, **_

_**How do I get you alone?**_

_**(How do I get you alone?)**_

_**How do I get you alone?**_

_**(How do I get you?)**_

_**Alone?**_

_**Alone…**_

_**

* * *

**_

Whew! I finally did it! Here is the first real chapter of _What Do I Have to Do? _Now I will get into the song I originally intended for this story, which is a bonus. It will be predominately from Harry's POV now, although I'm not sure if I should switch back into third person or not. I thought Draco's chapter should be in first person so that it seemed more emotional, but I'm thinking future chapters might be better in third person. What does everyone think? On another note, my formatting always turns out to be a bit squished, anyone know how I can get it to space out more? The site's preview section apparently disagrees with double spaces!


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